Cape Cod and All the Pilgrim Land, June 1922, Volume 6, Number 4 by Various
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Various >> Cape Cod and All the Pilgrim Land, June 1922, Volume 6, Number 4
We soon sighted the Island of Fernando Norouha which is a penal
settlement for the convicts of Brazil. This island is about six miles
in circumference and two thousand and twenty feet high. It had a
rocky barren appearance with nothing to be seen but a few birds
around it. About thirty miles from this island are the Martin Van
Rocks, three hundred feet high. In the south Atlantic we sighted the
group of Tristan Da Cunha Islands which had a very gloomy, foggy
look. Tristan is inhabited by English people and I have been told
that the women are particularly handsome there. In this region it is
very chilly and damp and though the thermometer stood at fifty-five
degrees it seemed much colder. At this time we began to prepare for
the heavy weather of our Easting, as the run across the Indian Ocean
is called. New sails were bent and everything battened down. The days
were very short, the sun rising at about half past seven and setting
at five o'clock. We usually made the run about forty degrees south in
order to get better winds. What a dreary outlook it was! Nothing but
sky and water with waves which were mountains high. The only bit of
life outside of our ship's company was a number of birds of a
different nature from any I had ever seen and they followed the ship
day after day. Cape pigeons and albatross were in large numbers. We
caught many of the latter and measured them. I remember one weighing
thirty pounds and measuring fifteen feet from tip to tip of the
wings. Cape hens about as large as good sized turkeys, ice birds, and
many other small birds. I enjoyed feeding them and it was very funny
to watch them tumble over each other in their efforts to get
something to eat. Such a noise as they did make with their
squabblings! Many sharks were caught and I never knew a sailor to
have any compunctions about disposing of these man-eating creatures.
A shark line was towed astern at different times and one day it took
the combined efforts of five men to haul one in. Whales, all of
ninety feet in length, stayed about the ship several days at a time.
We saw many sun-fish which are a light gray in color. They have one
large fin out of the water and are very hard to harpoon.
Once in a while another ship would come in view and if near enough
we always spoke to one another by our flag code. This was always an
interesting event. Certain sentences given in the code book would be
represented by certain flags, each flag representing a letter of the
alphabet. The questions usually asked were, "Where are you from?"
"Where bound?" "How many days out?" and then a wish for a pleasant
passage. My experience in running down the Easting has always been
the same and I have made the trip a number of times. I have heard of
ships running across the Indian Ocean with royals set but whenever I
have been, we have had a succession of heavy gales. In thirty-six
degrees fifty minutes south and Lon. twenty-nine degrees fifty-nine
minutes east a heavy gale sprung up which gradually turned into a
hurricane. The barometer was falling fast when I retired and at
eleven o'clock it stood at 28.50. I have merely to close my eyes now
and I can hear the wind as it shrieked and roared about us. We ran
before those mountainous seas with but one thought and that to keep
them from breaking over the ship. All hands were on deck all night,
each one lashed, with the exception of those who were between decks
passing out oil cases which were broken open and thrown overboard by
those on deck. Fifteen hundred cases were used that night with good
effect. The seas were as high but the oil prevented them from
breaking over the ship. During the worst of the gale one man was
washed overboard but his loss was not discovered for nearly twenty
minutes, and even if it had been, nothing could have been done to
save him in such tremendous seas. Clark Russell says that the
grandeur and sublimity of the ocean can be best seen on a yard arm
during a gale of wind, but somehow I have not been able to make
those words applicable to the gales through which I have passed.
Through our ninety degrees of Easting I had but little exercise. The
lee side of the cabin usually found me with my books, work and
numerous small articles for ready use. I think the most exercise I
had during those days was when I tried to dress, as it was almost
impossible to stand in one spot any length of time on account of the
rolling and pitching of the ship. With a firm stand I would place
myself in front of my mirror, only to gradually slide away across
the room to a lounge where I would sit down, then I would climb back,
and with as much speed as possible do what I could before
disappearing again. In a length of time I was able to make my toilet,
and when made it was not changed during the day in those latitudes.
They were certainly strenuous days, but we were well and had good
appetites for the excellent meals which were served to us by our
capable Chinese steward and cook. The doings and sayings of our
cabin boy would fill a book, but he was trustworthy and attended
faithfully to our wants. One night after I had retired, a heavy
thunder storm came up which might have caused us considerable
trouble had not our usual strict discipline been carried out. Having
become so used to confused sounds on deck I did not realize that the
ship had been struck by lightning, though I heard a sound which in
my dozing condition I laid to something falling down in the bathroom.
When the Captain came in to ask if I were all right I sleepily said,
"Why not? I think something has fallen down." He did not tell me
until morning that the ship had been struck and had caught fire aloft.
By changing the course the sparks were made to fall overboard while
men were sent aloft to cut away the blazing fragments. About ten
minutes before the vessel was struck, a dozen men were aloft furling
a sail just where the lightning struck us, and when the storm was
over it seemed a special act of Providence that we still had these
men with us.
I have so often been asked what could we possibly have to eat that
would be appetizing for such lengthy voyages. We always carried fowl
in large numbers and it was very seldom that we did not have fresh
eggs enough for our table during the voyage. Potatoes, onions, and
lemons we always had in abundance and they were very important items
of our food. The following is one of the menus served to us on quite
a stormy day as we were running across the Indian Ocean. For
breakfast: baked beans, fish balls, brown bread, hot biscuits, tea
and coffee. For dinner: soup, roast chicken, cold tongue, boiled
potatoes, squash, and onions, English pudding, hard sauce, and coffee.
For supper: warm biscuit, cold chicken, cold tongue, fried potatoes,
cake and tea. In fine weather our menus were more elaborate and I
never knew any one to complain of being hungry aboard ship while I
was going to sea.
After eighty-seven days of such sea life I was aroused one morning
to go on deck and see if I could see anything that looked like land
and saw what at first seemed to me to be a small cloud in the
distance about thirty miles away. As the morning wore on, the
Australian coast gradually loomed up before us, the land first seen
proving to be Cape Bridgewater. We sighted Cape Otway in the
afternoon, the lighthouse being plainly seen in the evening, and
such a beautiful evening as it was! Not a cloud in the sky! The
stars shone like diamonds and the reflection on the water of the
beautiful moon put a finish to the charm of a perfect night. The
Southern Cross was almost directly over us, while in close proximity
to the moon was the brilliant Venus. We remained on deck very late
that night to enjoy our beautiful scene. During the evening a very
pretty phenomenon took place when the sky became a brilliant red,
like the reflection of a fire, forming an arc through which the
stars could be plainly seen. It remained thus for some time, until
it gradually changed into a white light, the Southern Lights or
Aurora Australis as the change is called.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE OLD TOWN CRIER]
EDITORIAL
PROSPERITY IS HERE
Whatever may be the situation throughout the country, Cape Cod shows
evidences of prosperity that cannot be overlooked. In fact, dull
times on the Cape are a thing of the past and each year sees a
steady growth, increasing land values and larger summer population.
While the Cape has not increased very fast in permanent population
it has shown a remarkable advancement in wealth and prosperity.
Lands that a few years ago had little value have been developed,
cottages and homes have been built, agricultural interests developed
and all along the line the Cape has moved steadily forward.
This year there has been a great many real estate changes, shore
colonies are being opened up and builders are busy everywhere
supplying the demand for more summer homes.
All signs point to the fact that the Cape is at that stage in its
development where it is becoming widely and favorably known as a
summer resort region. Its business facilities are increasing, the
quality of its stores improving and from a more or less provincial
community it is developing into a region second to none in
prosperity along the New England coast.
It has been widely and extensively advertised and although it has
not boomed as have some of the southern resorts its growth has been
more steady and sane and it is devoid of those inflated values which
are apt to be followed by a depression in so many cases. The Cape's
growth has been a conservative one and therefore a permanent one.
Again we wish to warn prospective lot buyers upon the Cape not to
have dealings with real estate agents of the type known as "land
sharks." The reputable agents are well known and can be depended
upon to give a square deal, but there are get-rich-quick men who
stand ready to take advantage of the unwary and sell them sand lots
among the dunes and locations among the scrub oaks, remote from
habitations and worthless for any purpose. Beautiful prospectus and
misleading blue prints do not afford a sufficient basis for lot
buying and personal investigation is as needful here as anywhere else.
Cheap land is apt to be dear at any price and unless one personally
investigates what is being offered it will be well to go slow.
There are plenty of real seaside bargains left on the Cape. In the
vicinity of the popular resorts land values are apt to be high, but
there are numberless localities that have not yet been developed
that present good possibilities and the seeker after a summer home
can find such localities without much trouble and a very little
money will buy land suitable for their purposes amid surroundings
that are congenial, scenic and healthful.
Among the hundreds of new cottages that are being built upon the
Cape this season are those ranging from the simple cottage costing
only a few hundred dollars and those which are destined to be
pretentious summer homes, but whether hundreds of dollars are spent
or thousands all are assured pleasant, healthful environments with
opportunities for rest and recreation unsurpassed.
We predict a brilliant future for our region. It is just beginning
to be understood and appreciated. Its advantages are becoming known
and its attractiveness understood.
* * * * *
HABITS AND THE GAME
Your habits will determine largely whether you give or take orders.
Is it your habit to shirk responsibility--to "pass the buck"--whenever
possible? If so, you will never be the "boss." One man has no one to
whom he can pass the buck. That person is the chief. Accept and
welcome responsibility. Have the courage to face the consequences of
your acts and decisions.
Develop self-confidence, not egotism. Let that confidence be founded
on experience, study, common sense, and careful work.
Indulge in retrospection. Examine decisions that you have made, in
an attempt to develop the faculty for reaching conclusions on tenable
grounds quickly, Quick decisions expedite the processes of business
and inspire confidence in one's co-workers. The man who does not know
his mind cannot guide efficiently the mental or physical energies of
others.
Are you careless? Do you permit to pass unquestioned points about
which you are uncertain? Do you take it for granted that these
things will "get by" or that they never will be noticed? Again you
are shifting the burden, expecting that someone will do the work you
should have done. That carelessness will militate against you to
prevent your elevation to an executive position. The boss cannot be
careless and hold the respect of his associates or his position.
Success comes to the one who plays the game. There is no royal road
to it, or chance about it. It comes from eternally plugging at it,
by study and concentration and an absence of the fear of making a
mistake. A mistake is not such a frightful thing as many imagine. An
honest mistake can be readily changed into a success many times. The
fear of making mistakes frequently deters a weak man from going ahead
where another will study well the situation, form a conclusion, and
go ahead.
Your own character and habits determine whether you are a leader or
a follower.
* * * * *
GET AFTER THE BILLBOARDS
If your town has not yet taken action against the billboard nuisance
it is time that it did. Have a strong town by-law passed and see that
it is enforced. There is no question that public sentiment is against
the billboard. They should be made outlaws upon the highways. State
legislation has been enacted against them, but its effectiveness has
been tempered by the timidity of those charged with the enforcement
of the laws to destroy the "property values" that is claimed for
them. Public sentiment, rightly used, can do more than laws.
Offending billboard advertisers can be shown that such advertising is
injudicious and in time they will voluntarily give it up.
By law, billboards can be debarred from localities possessing unusual
scenic beauty. The Mohawk Trail and Cape Ann are examples of the
application of this principle. Cape Cod has just as great claims. Its
scenic beauty is marred and destroyed by the glaring monstrosities
that greet the traveler everywhere. Let them be removed and an
irritating offense against the nerves and asthetic senses will be
removed.
The only way to get rid of the billboards is to act.
* * * * *
HELP THE CAUSE
In certain ways the whole community can be helped by concerted
action. The interest of the whole is the interest of all. Anything
that tends to help others will help you. Just now a question of
importance is the further development of Cape Cod by the
establishment of terminal facilities on the Cape Cod canal. This will
cost money, but it will be money well expended. If we wait for
someone to do the developing for us we will have to wait a long time.
The state is ready to do its share, but it wants the locality itself
to do a part. A canal terminal is the one thing needful to make the
canal of local advantage. We have the opportunity and we should grasp
it. It is a case where local conservatism should be forgotten and
every community should help bear the burden of an expense that will
assist in the development of Cape Cod as a whole.
CONCLUSIVE EVIDENCE
E.M. Chase
"Willie."
"What."
"Is that the way to answer your mother?"
"Yesum, I mean nomum."
"I want you to stay out in the front yard where you can watch my
flower garden this afternoon. I have planted some flower seeds out
there and I want you to keep the neighbors' hens way. Your father is
going to put a wire netting around the garden as soon as he can get
a chance."
"Why not ask the neighbors to keep their hens at home?" mildly
inquired Mr. Brown.
"I have told them time and time again, but the Bakers say it must be
the Jones' hens and the Joneses say it is the Bakers' hens. As a
matter of fact all their hens come over, but I don't want to make a
fuss, I can't afford to lose the only two neighbors I have."
"But ma, I promised Ned I'd go fishing with him."
"You had no business to promise anything of the kind, now go out
there and say no more about it."
It was a warm spring day, just the right kind of weather to go
fishing or rambling through the woods or playing marbles with the
other boys or to do almost anything except stay in the front yard and
watch neighbors' hens. Willie thought himself much abused and cast
about for a means of escape. He dared not run away; he had tried
that before and the memory of the results was rather painful. A
shrill whistle interrupted his bitter thought and a moment later Ned
came in view carrying a fishing rod, basket, and can of bait.
"Hello, Bill, ain't yer ready yet?"
"Can't go."
"Tough luck, what's the trouble?"
"I gotta stay here and keep the hens out of ma's garden."
"Why don't yer cut it, you can stay away from home until late then
your ma will get worried and be so glad when you show up she won't
whip yer."
"Not on your life, I did once. I never got home 'til long after dark.
Mother licked me good for running away then pa whoppoped me for
scaring ma, nope, I've learned my lesson."
"Gee, Bill, it's dirt mean, but I'll tell you what I will do, I'll
come back and play marbles with yer if the fish don't bite good."
"I wish the old hens was in Tophet. Say, Ned, ain't got a book yer
could let a feller have, have yer?"
"Sure, one of the latest. I just finished it and it's a corker. I
promised Joe Hykes he could take it next but you will have time to
read it this afternoon and Joe is off playin' ball."
Willie grabbed the book eagerly. It had an alluring cover, the
design was worked out in bright red, brilliant yellow and poisonous
green and it represented a man in the act of killing a young and
presumably beautiful woman. It was of the dime novel variety
entitled "Conclusive Evidence," just the thing to appeal to the
imaginative Willie. Soon all thought of hens slipped from Willie's
mind, his heart beat rapidly, he breathlessly followed the hero's
thrilling adventures, he almost shed tears when the girl who had
helped the hero outwit the villain was found mysteriously murdered.
With keen interest he watched the authorities carry the hero to jail.
He was first in the audience at the trial, he drew a long breath
when only circumstantial evidence could be brought out, his heart
sank when the villain rushed into the court room and cried out that
he had conclusive evidence, his hopes went down, a sharp pain
assailed him in the shoulder, he thought the villain had grabbed him,
he jumped up and--in place of the court room, prisoner, judge, jury,
witnesses, interested onlookers, etc., he saw his mother standing
beside him and--horrors--a dozen or more hens blissfully digging in
the loosened earth of the garden.
"Where did you get that book, Willie?"
"It was lent to me, ma, don't tear it ma, don't tear it, it ain't
mine, ma--"
"That will do, Willie, it is not fit for you or any other boy to read,
now you come in the house and go to bed."
"But ma, it is only four o'clock and I'm hungry and I won't let 'em
in the garden again, ma, please can't I stay out here, ma?"
"You do as I told you without further delay."
All alone in his room, confined to his bed by the stern mandates of
his mother, with everything out of doors calling him, Willie could
not sleep and then when darkness fell hunger gnawed at his vitals and
sleep refused to put an end to his misery. He counted to a thousand
then half drifted into the land of dreams. A wicked little green imp
whispered in his ear. "Conclusive Evidence," whispered it so loudly
Willie awoke, then he thought, or tried to think of some plan of
revenge on his heartless mother. He could think of none that would
not return to himself fourfold, then he reasoned that after all it
was not so much his mother's fault as the neighbors for keeping hens
that would not stay at home. Perhaps the little green imp came and
whispered into his ear again, I don't know, but how else account for
Willie's queer actions?
He slipped quietly out of bed, paused to listen at the door of his
mother's room but heard no sound. Reassured, he crept noiselessly
down the back stairs into the kitchen, out through the rough room
into the shed where the corn was kept. He filled the pockets with
hen corn, the bright moonlight shining in through the window gave
him all the light he needed, until his pajamas looked as though they
had the bubonic plague. Still moving with extreme caution, he went
into the kitchen again, secured a pan into which he put his corn; he
then proceeded to fill the pan nearly full of water. He listened but
all was quiet, so he ventured even into the pantry where his mother
kept the cookie crock. He again filled his pockets, this time with
cookies. His night work over he carried the pan containing the corn
and water to his room, put the pan as far under the bed as possible
to avoid discovery, then seated himself by the open window to enjoy
his lunch. His father, who never seemed to get around to things, had
not mended the screen that belonged in Willie's window so Willie sat
with his head as far out of doors as the size of his body would
permit and ate his cookies. He was wise enough not to leave
tell-tale crumbs.
Willie slept well and soundly after his midnight adventures and in
the morning appeared at the breakfast table promptly. He ate enough
to make up for what he had missed the night before, then enough to
last until noon time. When he finished his mother said:
"Now Willie, go out and watch the garden again, your father did not
get around to putting up the netting yesterday, and mind, if I catch
you reading another book you will not get off as easily as you did
yesterday."
"Yesum."
Willie first made a trip to his room, then to the sewing room.
"What are you doing, Willie?" came the maternal voice.
"Nuthin', just lookin' for my cap, I'm going out now."
Once more out where he could watch the hens, Willie proceeded to
unload his pockets. He brought to light some sheets of paper, a
pencil, a large needle, a spool of black linen thread and all of the
soaked corn he had been able to put in his pockets.
He tore the paper in strips about an inch wide and three inches long.
On each slip he wrote, "Please keep us home." On the other side,
"Conclusive Evidence."
He cut pieces of string, linen thread, about six inches long, some
longer. With the aid of the needle he threaded a piece of corn on
one end of each string, on the other end he tied one of the slips of
paper. When all were finished he scattered them broadcast over and
about the garden.
"Willie, come to dinner."
No Willie appeared on the scene.
"Willie, dinner is ready."
Still no sign of the lad and his mother started after him with a
queer look in her eye.
Strange was the sight her eyes beheld as she came around the corner
into the front yard. Hens fled before her approach but such funny
looking hens; they all had more or less tags flying from their bills.
They had swallowed the corn but the strings and tags were beyond
their ability to masticate and they blew out defiantly in the breeze.
One tag had become loosened and Mrs. Brown picked it up and read the
scribbled words. While she was thinking just what she ought to do to
Willie, Mrs. Baker came across the yard, bristling like a frightened
porcupine.
"What have you been doing to my hens?" she demanded.
Mrs. Brown, like the efficient woman she was, saw her opportunity
and rose to the occasion.
"Your hens, Mrs. Baker, why nothing. I have been in the kitchen all
the morning until I just came out to call Willie to dinner. Willie
has been keeping the hens out of my garden, not your hens, you know
you have assured me your hens never come over here."
Thinking discretion the better part of valor Mrs. Baker suddenly
remembered something that needed immediate attention and she
hastened to attend to it.
Mrs. Brown watched her out of sight, smiling in appreciation of the
genius she had raised, then she turned and confronted Mrs. Jones,
coldly angry.
"What do you mean, Mrs. Brown, by tagging my hens until they look
like a mark down sale?"
"What are you talking about, Mrs. Jones? Your hens couldn't have
been over here could they? I am sure neither Willie nor I have been
out of the yard."
"I smell something burning."
In spite of the fact that the Jones homestead was quite a distance
and the wind in the direction to blow all odors in the opposite
direction Mrs. Brown did not try to detain her. Neither did she
punish Willie, in fact she gave him an extra piece of pie for dinner.
* * * * *
The Browns, Joneses and Bakers are still on the best of terms, but
Mr. Brown never put the wire netting up and yet Mrs. Brown plants
her garden with never a thought of neighbors' hens.